


stress is hard on the body

by MKYouth



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (incredibly minor), Lots of Thinking, Melancholy, Sunsets, Underage Drinking, Written in an Hour, based on a stream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKYouth/pseuds/MKYouth
Summary: “What do you think about this one Tubbo?”Schlatt waves the wine glass in his hand, the liquid sloshing around delicately, as if Schlatt had done so many times before. Tubbo couldn’t doubt that, Schlatt seemed like the kind.“I don’t think anything of it,” He says, pulling his gaze away from the white wine, scribbling absentmindedly onto his clipboard. Party planning, for the festival- in which he knew was going to be blown to bits.Not the most fun thing.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 14
Kudos: 274





	stress is hard on the body

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this isnt my best work. I have a 5k word (ATM) chapter start for an AU in the works but the recent developments on the DTSMP made me go brrr. It's like midnight and I wrote this really fast so sorry if it's full of spelling errors lol.
> 
> Enjoy!

“What do you think about this one Tubbo?” 

Schlatt waves the wine glass in his hand, the liquid sloshing around delicately, as if Schlatt had done so many times before. Tubbo couldn’t doubt that, Schlatt seemed like the kind. 

“I don’t think anything of it,” He says, pulling his gaze away from the white wine, scribbling absentmindedly onto his clipboard. Party planning, for the festival- in which he knew was going to be blown to bits. 

Not the most fun thing. 

He hears the pop of a bottle releasing all it’s compression, looking up at the horned man with a jump. Finding him pouring another tall glass of the wine from their tasting plate, “You should- it’s legal here. Be a man.”

“I don’t know if I w-”

“We’re gonna need as many opinions as we can get,” He pushes, holding it out to the younger, “It’s a festival for everyone, you know. Don’t wanna ruin it with bad drinks.”  
  
The words sting his ears, for _everyone_. He was putting all this effort into planning a perfect getaway event for the citizens of Manburg- all this time, all this work when he _knew_ what Wilbur was planning to do. Yet, he wasn’t able to do anything to stop it. Time was ticking and all he could do was wait, he was helpless against the fight to preserve the land he’d fought for time and time again. 

He puts the clipboard between his arm and side, reaching an unsteady hand to the glass. 

He gives Schlatt a slight smile, eyes moving away from the other before he was given one in return. The tall glass lifted to his lips as he hesitantly took a sip of the alcoholic drink, liquid falling gently into his mouth. 

It was acidic… dulled fruit- maybe? Like a lacroix ... There was no tingle like a soda or free flow of water, it made his mouth feel like cotton- but only slightly. it wasn’t something he was used to- he wanted to reject the flavor. 

He pulled it away as soon as he formed an opinion, it wasn’t good.

“It’s good- the texture is nice, wet!”

Schlatt grinned, taking a drink of his own- “Atta boy! I knew you’d warm up to it.”

Maybe he was fine with Manburg blowing up. 

No.

He just wanted Schlatt to stop being leader. 

He plastered a smile to his face, setting the glass down next to it’s bottle on the white clothed table and grabbing his clipboard from it’s tiny tuck away. He scribbles some nonsense on the bulleted paper about white wine and continued to the other table, happy to be away from the alcoholic ones. 

Another pointless task down, only 17 more to go. 

It was going to be a long day.

He really didn’t want the festival to be ruined, in all honesty. It was one of the good things Schlatt was doing, something he wasn’t incredibly opposed to. Fundy seemed happy about it, the idea made Niki crack a smile he hadn't seen in a while and Eret offered help on decoration. Sure, he wished Tommy and Wilbur to be there but he knew how it was at the moment… if he really wanted to see Tommy he’d just sneak away as he had been.

He missed the days in L’manburg where they’d sit around and listen to music, this was the closest thing he’d get to that in a while. 

But alas, it was going to be blown to bits. Everyone present would be torn apart- from flesh to bone and sent into another painful… week long respawn of their bodies attempting to become whole again. Wilbur would have successfully destroyed history, made history.

It won't be the same after.

What will they do?

* * *

  
  


He’s tired. 

It’s the kind that pulls you to sleep, but as soon as you lay your head on the comfort of a pillow the sleep teases you awake. The _idea_ of sleep pulling your eyelids down, but behind making your mind dart with thoughts of this and that. 

He finds himself at the edge of Manburg. 

Where there were once walls. 

Grass hasn't grown in the spot yet, a ring of unsettled dirt surrounding the nation. He’d imagined it would blend by now, but it didn't. The realization that the walls base being torn down only a few weeks ago hitting him like a bag of bricks from behind, pushing him forward to inspect everything closer. 

There were chips of blackstone in the mud.

He looks away.

Things were moving too fast. So many changes in such a short period of time, walking up the Prime Path and finding himself at the embassy. Just yesterday this area was claimed to be part of Manburg. He remembers when it was Tommy’s, and then L’mamburg. 

When was that… just a few months ago? Time is a fuzzled mess in his mind. 

The suns at its lowest set in the distance. He sits on the bench.

He misses when his biggest worry was Tommy’s rivalry with Ponk. 

Now it was whether he could support a nation or not. 

A dead nation.

It's going to be blown up. 

By _Wilbur_.

Wilbur is crazy, Tommy’s sane. It’s never been like that. 

He thinks, does Niki have motivation now? Does Fundy know? Will Eret be forgiven if it was all pointless in the end? His head hurts, and he regrets taking a sip of that wine. It wasn’t like he wanted to, anyway.

He feels a weight on the bench, he doesn’t look. 

“Tubbo?” 

“Hey Tommy.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, there's no judgment to his tone. A simple question: the same voice he’d hear from the same person and their countless hours spent together during the peaceful days of this nation. He feels his mood shift. 

“Thinking,” He mumbles, focusing on the horizon, looking for the hill Fundy used to house himself in. 

Tommy sniffs, “Yeah?”

“What about you?”

“Mhm… Dream delivered the TNT. Wilbur’s planning, I left.” He says, eyes laying on the rip in his jeans- it’s new. He wonders where he got it from.

Wilbur is going to blow up Manburg.

L’manburg.

Their history.

“Do you think he’ll regret it?”

Wilbur had his reasons, they didn’t feel solid to Tubbo- at least from what Tommy had let overflow and slipp from him yesterday- at this bench, with that music disk and those shed tears. 

But reasons were still reasons, and the description was… 

He didn’t want to say evil.

But…

“Yes. I think he will.”

He wishes blocks were playing to fill the silence. 

“Why?”

Tommy sighs, Tubbo feels he should too.

“We’ve... We’ve done a lot- and it would go to waste. There’s memories and history in L’manburg, and it would be stupid to throw away.”

Tubbo hums. 

Wilbur’s gone insane. 

“I planned a lot of the festival today.” Tubbo feels the need to move the topic, he doesn’t know it that’s the right one.

Tommy leans back into the bench, he can feel it, “Really?”

“I had my first sip of wine. It was gross.” He rolls his tongue on the roof of his mouth, the puffy feeling long gone yet returning in memory.

“Oh, cool.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Not cool.”

He continues, “Schlatt wants the decorations to be like the obsidian flag, it’s kind of ugly.”

Tubbo rubs at his nose, taking a glance at Tommy. He looks disheveled, a bit. It’s understandable. 

“I hate that flag,” He blinks, pulling at the edge of his shirt, “It doesn’t even wave.”

“Me too, I wrote that speech… though I don’t think it will be… used.”

Tommy perks, “What did you write?”

“Democracy- I dunno, thought ‘what screams american’ and scribbled it down. It’s kinda pointless.” 

Wilbur’s gone insane and he’s going to blow up L’manburg’s history as soon as he speaks at that podium. 

He can’t do anything to stop that.

He’s a loyal spy… Tommy’s a loyal right hand man. 

They won’t interfere or help. That is what they said, together. 

“Tubbo?”

“Yeah?”

“If… If it comes to it- we- we have the disks- and I know we talked about this already but would you be willing- and I mean this as a last resort, would you be willing to try and survive in the Dream SMP wilderness with me? The unclaimed land?” Tommy stutters, the words coming out one after the other. They’d talked about running away before… they’d decided against it.

But… Wilbur is going to blow up history… does it matter?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence. The moon having rose over the horizon minutes ago.

Wilbur was going to blow up Manburg, L’manburg during a server wide event. He is going to do it while Tubbo is standing at the podium and everyone on the server is gathered in a crowd.

His efforts will be ruined.

His leader is insane, and his best friend- for once, is reasonable.

He’s under the control of two men he doesn't want to be, anymore.

Running away…

Running away doesn’t seem that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a kudos and comment if you enjoyed... please :]


End file.
